


the show's over now, take a bow

by la_victorienne



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-28
Updated: 2009-01-28
Packaged: 2018-10-16 01:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10560726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_victorienne/pseuds/la_victorienne
Summary: jack says "i love you."  also, there is porn.





	

The first time Jack says “I love you,” Ianto cold-cocks him in the jaw.

It’s late at night and they’re in the archives and Ianto is wearing ridiculous pink Wellies because there’s a leak and the Bay is flooding the lower levels and these were the only boots in his size and he and Jack are desperately trying to find a way to put a finger in the dike and Jack is laughing at the image that conjures for him, rather than the image it conjures for everybody else, and he looks over at Ianto who is swearing and sputtering and to his ankles in muddy water that is rapidly encroaching on his lovely suit and then he manages to squeeze what feels like a gallon of alien putty from a squeezy-container that just happened to be in the room where the leak is into the crack and the water slows to a trickle and Jack says “I love you,” loudly and with too much meaning and Ianto just can’t handle it anymore so he lets loose and swings.

Jack hardly has time to recover before Ianto is pushing him up against the wall, never mind the drying putty and the still dripping fissures in the wall they’ll have to reinforce later, because he needs something, anything, right now, and Jack is the only one he can take it from who always forgives him his myriad transgressions. His hands scrabble on Jack’s damp trousers and his mouth presses roughly against Jack’s, sets of teeth clicking and his jaw tight, taking and taking and giving nothing in return. This feels like something Suzie would have done, he thinks dimly, and presses all the harder with his long fingers around Jack’s long cock and his mouth now on Jack’s jaw, now on Jack’s neck, panting with his own constraint even as he focuses on effecting Jack’s release. Jack’s arms are out, Jesus-style, because he’s just that kind of motherfucking brooding Byronic fucking hero, palms flat against the spider webbed wall, fingers arched and bent helplessly, though Ianto knows he’s secretly loving it, especially if his cock’s immediate response is anything to go by – and it usually is. Ianto has him off with a twist of the wrist and a hissed expletive bitten hard into Jack’s skin, and between the bruise forming on Jack’s face and the come setting into his impractical wool trousers, for the first time in their admittedly chequered history Jack actually looks undone. His breath comes in thick, fast pants and his chest is heaving, and he’s looking at Ianto with a mixture of wariness and arousal, and Ianto just growls, turns on his soaked pink rubber heel, and stalks away, splashing lightly in the briny water still six inches deep on the floor as he goes.


End file.
